The Feather

by Ford Madox Ford

‘I wonder where on earth I am,’ she said, and then she took two or three steps forward, but she came against a stone parapet or wall, or something. ‘I wonder what this is,’ she said to herself. ‘I think I shall stop where I am till daylight; it won’t be very long now, and I’m safe here at any rate.’

So she leant on the wall and waited; but even though the dawn was near it seemed long in coming.

But presently over the mountains in the east a yellow light stole, changing the silence of darkness for the clamorous speech of light, and the river flowing placidly in front was turned to liquid gold with the yellow of the dawn, and a sense of yellow-fringed gray mist was on everything, and forms erstwhile veiled discovered themselves.

‘Why, wherever am I?’ said Ernalie, rubbing her eyes in astonishment. ‘I seem to have been here before! Yes, there’s the fountain and the rose-bushes, and—why, this must be the terrace of my father’s Palace! Just where I was when the eagle carried me off. I wonder if the swans are still here,’ and she walked to the other side of the terrace and looked over the marble parapet into the water.

‘Yes, there they are.’ And on the marble steps that led down to the water the swans were asleep, each on one leg, with its neck coiled up on its back, and head under its wing. On hearing the footsteps of the Princess one of them looked lazily up as if it had been waked too soon, and then it shook its head, yawned, put down its other leg and waddled slowly to the water, into which it jumped with a splash that woke the others up; and they followed dreamily, being unused to the chill of the water so early.

A cock crowed, and his challenge was answered from far and near, and woke up the sparrows, who came down to the fountain for a shower-bath in the sparkling spray. They were followed by the pigeons, who, after cooing a little, stretched their wings and circled away on their morning flight. So, by degrees, the world awoke as the day took a firmer grasp on the land and the light grew stronger.

‘I wish they’d open the doors and let me get in,’ the Princess said. But as yet there seemed no sign of any one waking up.

‘Ah, well,’ she said resignedly, ‘I’ve waited six years to come home—I suppose I can wait a few more hours.’

So she quietly walked to the rose-bushes and plucked one or two of the great red damask roses, and chafing the petals off between her hands, threw the handfuls of them at the swans, who hissed and snapped as the mass of red leaves fell over them. It was some time since they had been subjected to such treatment; however, they seemed to get used to it again pretty easily.